


The Village

by EvanHarr98



Series: Songfic Series [18]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst, Dysphoria, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Songfic, The Village (Song), Trans, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23914549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvanHarr98/pseuds/EvanHarr98
Summary: There's something wrong in the village, in the village.They stare in the village, in the village.There's nothing wrong with you. It's true. It's true.There's something wrong with the village, with the village.There's something wrong with the village.
Relationships: Mumbo Jumbo/Grian
Series: Songfic Series [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711198
Comments: 23
Kudos: 80





	The Village

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Short_Circuits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Short_Circuits/gifts).



> Hey guys, so this story means so much to me. I was supposed to have ended this songfic series with the last story, but I couldn't. When this was requested, I had to write it. 
> 
> Thank you so much, Short_Circuits for requesting this, it was beautiful and I cried while writing it :D 
> 
> I hope I did this justice.

Mumbo stared at the mirror before him. Stood there, staring back was an image that didn't match up. Curves and smooth hairless skin. His stomach clenched, his eyes stung. He wished he could snip away what he didn't need, wished he could rip himself apart. He had come out as a transgender male to his family today. They had tried their best to understand. He'd come out to his best friend-turned-boyfriend first, Grian had accepted him, immediately using his preferred name and pronouns. He glanced to the eyes of this strange person, in the mirror. "Who are you?" He asked it, but he gained no reply. His mind fluttered with distant hopes of what his life could become. He had started his journey now, he had begun his transition.

* * *

_No, your mom don't get it_

_And your dad don't get it._

_Uncle John don't get it._

Mumbo leant against the side of his bed, curled up on the floor, his head leant against the blond boy, who sat beside him. Tears streamed down his face as he desperately tried not to look down. The mounds on his chest were so stark, so obvious. He hated them. His skin so smooth and soft, pudge in places where it was supposed to be hardened muscle. He whimpered and buried his face in Grian's neck. "I can't do this." He whimpered brokenly. Grian hushed him, stroking his back. 

"This is only temporary babe, I promise, you'll be okay soon." He hushed. Mumbo wished he could believe that. He wished he could see what Grian saw. All he saw was the female that trapped him. Her high pitched voice, her soft small hands, her hair that was so lush and full, her almond eyes. He hated her. It wasn't her fault. But he hated her. She was his prison guard, and he was on death row.

_And you can't tell grandma 'cause her heart can't take it_

_And she might not make it._

_They say, "Don't dare, don't you even go there. Cutting off your long hair. You do as you're told."_

_Tell you, "Wake up, go put on your makeup, this is just a phase you're gonna outgrow."_

It was Ren's wedding. The South African was a friend of the family, he was kind and gentle and understanding. Mumbo stood at the top of his parents' stairs and screamed down with all his might that he refused to go, if he couldn't wear the suit that Grian had bought him. 

"You have to wear a dress, darling. You can't go looking like a boy, no one will understand."

"You have to make yourself look pretty, sweetheart, like mommy."

Mumbo's heart shattered, 'like mommy'. He wasn't like his mother. He was him. She was her. He couldn't do it, he slammed his feet on the steps, as he walked, his chest wobbled in ways that it shouldn't, his trousers felt too empty, his heart felt clogged with the sickly syrup of misery. He couldn't. Ren understood that, he would never judge Mumbo for what he wore, it was his parents. He couldn't do this.

Mumbo slammed the door to his bedroom and screamed, tears streamed down his face and he glared at that mirror. He yelled at it to leave him alone, begged the girl to go, to go and bring his reflection back. He couldn't stand the idea of staring in that mirror and seeing someone that wasn't him. Mirrors were supposed to show who you were. Then why did his lie? He dialled Grian's number, in his phone, begging his boyfriend to come pick him up. He couldn't do this.

_There's something wrong in the village, in the village._

_They stare in the village, in the village._

_There's nothing wrong with you. It's true. It's true._

_There's something wrong with the village, with the village._

_There's something wrong with the village._

The gel was cool against his palm, his stomach fluttered with excitement. He had waited for so long, his binder constricted his chest, he could barely breathe - it was wonderful! His underwear curved in the right way, the material hugged against his packer, it was silicone, but it was his, it was real to him. The gel stunk of alcohol, but it was the scent of progress. He rubbed it on his skin, he would bathe in it, if he had the chance. This was real. This was him. 

His hairline had begun to recede ever so slightly, it was scary, but it was right, it was true. It was him.

His body changed shape, he gained weight, it was ugly, but beautiful, it was true, it was him.

His voice cracked and hurt, he could no longer sing like he used to, but it was him.

Soft hair grew on his face, a whisper of what was to come. He looked like a penguin shedding the fluffy feathers, turning from chick to adult. It was him. 

Warm arms wrapped around his waist and Mumbo grinned, his eyes flicked up to the mirror, connecting with the blue irises of his boyfriend. "You look, gorgeous, darling."

"Do you think I should shave?"

"Do you want to?"

Mumbo thought on the question for a moment, but shook his head, a beaming smile spread across his features. "No, I want to try and grow a moustache."

"Then you do that, love."

_Feel the rumours follow you from Monday, all the way to Friday dinner._

_You got one day of shelter, then it's Sunday hell to pay, you young lost sinner._

_Well, I've been there, sitting in that same chair_

_Whispering that same prayer half a million times._

_It's a lie though, buried in disciples, one page of the bible isn't worth a life._

"Merry Christmas, darling." His mother's voice greeted him, as he and Grian slowly descended the staircase, they donned their fluffy Christmas pyjamas, Mumbo had already changed, having slipped into his binder and placed his packer in his underwear, but he yawned anyway, allowing his family to believe that he had just woken up. The blond greeted Mumbo's mother before the man himself did the same. They took their seats on the couch and Mumbo's mother proffered him a small gift. "We want you to open this first."

Mumbo watched her for a moment, his hand stuck in midair, holding that gift. 'To Mumbo, happy Christmas, son.' The scrawled writing was there, in black ink. His eyes stung with the force of his emotion, he glanced to Grian, who merely nodded with encouragement. Mumbo pulled the red wrapping from the gift and almost dropped it. In his hand stood a box and a letter addressed to him. He pulled open the box and a sob escaped his chest. It was a bracelet, leather was wrapped into a plait, a silver clasp and a dark metal plate was slipped on the other side, on the metal plate the following was engraved: 'To my son, always remember you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think and loved more than you know. Love Mom.'

He showed the piece of jewellery to his boyfriend, Grian grinned and complimented it, but his words were a mere muffle to Mumbo as tears slipped down his cheeks. Grian latched the bracelet to his wrist and Mumbo then tore open the letter. It was a cheque. A cheque with his name on it and made out for £6,000. "For your top surgery, love. We know that waiting for the NHS is too long, so we came together so you could have your chest reconstruction surgery." 

This was it, this was his best Christmas. Mumbo sobbed then, like a child. He clung to Grian, who gently rubbed circles into his back, he glanced to his parents, a choked "Thank you." Was all he could mutter as his mother and father lunged forward and wrapped their son in a hug.

_There's something wrong in the village, in the village._

_They stare in the village, in the village._

_There's nothing wrong with you. It's true. It's true._

_There's something wrong with the village, with the village._

_There's something wrong with the village._

Mumbo grinned at his boyfriend, the hospital stank of disinfectant, the alcoholic twang reminded him of his testosterone gel. It was a strange ode to him, to his situation. He had never thought he would be in that situation, both scared and excited all in one. He was about to be made whole, about to have a part of his body removed in order to make his life full once more. "Are you excited, love?" Grian asked, Mumbo could have bounced on that bed, he could have hooted with joy. "Of course I am!" He replied, his eyes wide with the adrenaline of the situation. He distantly wished he could go back in time then, to that young and frightened child. The little boy who was changing into something he wasn't supposed to be. He wished he could have protected him from that mirror, the lying mirror that only showed what he was never meant to look like. He wanted to tell that young boy that everything would be fine, that he was safe. That he would soon be whole.

_There's something wrong in the village, in the village._

_They stare in the village, in the village._

_There's nothing wrong with you. It's true. It's true._

_There's something wrong with the village, with the village._

_There's something wrong with the village._

Mumbo glanced to his fiance, the chapel was filled with people from both their families. His heart thundered in his chest, his flat chest. His suit clung to his body in all the right ways, he stood tall, with his partner, the man who'd been there, the man who was there now. Their uttered words, soul binding statements, vows to always be there for one another. 

"I now pronounce you husbands, you can kiss your husband."

Husband.

Man.

Him.

He.

Mumbo.

It was true. It was him.

**Author's Note:**

> So this marks the end to the songfic series. I am still taking requests, so if anyone has one, I will write it and post it with this series, however, this will no longer be the focal point of my attention. I wanted to make a start on my tag series and finish my multi-chaptered works, that I've been writing.
> 
> I wanted to thank everyone who has requested songs for this series, all of them have been fun to write, they have all been amazing. I have been challenged and thrown out of my comfort zone for some of them, but it has been amazing. Thank you all for giving me that :D
> 
> Please stay safe, and if you are trans and you're struggling with dysphoria or unsupportive parents, just remember that this stage is only temporary :D You will be your true selves soon, please look after yourselves and talk to someone who you trust, open up and let yourself be helped :D 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has come on this literary journey with me :D


End file.
